


Let It Snow

by waywardriot



Series: Vanven Week 2019 [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Snow Day, VanVen Week (Kingdom Hearts), lots of shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardriot/pseuds/waywardriot
Summary: If there’s anything Vanitas hates, it’s the holidays and cold and, now that the weather has changed, snow days.Unfortunately for him, he can be swayed into doing almost anything if it means that Ventus will be happy.Vanven Week Day 1: Free Day
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Vanven Week 2019 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576738
Comments: 18
Kudos: 53





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

> happy vanven day & vanven week, everyone! i have something written for each day, so i hope everyone enjoys what i'll be bringing to the table (at least 20k words >:)). today's piece is just super indulgent and fluffy.
> 
> [here](https://twitter.com/emrsaory/status/1202312575742103556?s=21) are the prompts i’ll be using for this week!

“Vanitas! Van, come on! Vanit—”

Vanitas is woken up by a sudden weight on top of him, and he opens his eyes only to find Ventus sitting on his hips, hands flat on his chest to support him as he leans forward eagerly. “Vanitas!”

“Wh… huh? What the hell are you doing?” he practically slurs, draping his forearm over his eyes to shield himself from the light—good god, why is it so bright in here?

“Come on, wake up!” The hands on his chest repeatedly pat it in an overzealous rhythm. “It snowed! You have to see!”

“Are you twelve years old? It’s too goddamn early to be this obnoxious.” 

“It’s better than being ninety years old and complaining about fun.”

Instead of deigning Ventus with a response, Vanitas haphazardly shoves at him with his free arm, which is more than enough to send Ventus toppling off of him. Before he can climb back up, Vanitas quickly rolls onto his stomach, bunching the blankets up over his head to block out the light once again. “Fuck off.”

A weight lands on his lower back with greater force than before and pushes a quiet _‘oof’_ out of Vanitas. “Stop being a grouch. You’ve never seen snow before, come on!”

“I’ve seen snow,” Vanitas complains, half muffled by his pillow, “Other worlds have snow too, you know.”

Ventus huffs out a sigh, trailing his hands up Vanitas’s back. “Okay, maybe, but—have you ever built a snowman? Or had a snowball fight? Or done anything besides look at it?”

All that answers him is a pointed silence. Vanitas knows there’s no way he can win here because Ventus already knows that he hasn’t done anything of the sort; when would he have had the opportunity? Well, he hasn’t done a lot of things, so this doesn’t particularly matter to him. Just heap it onto the pile that represents how fucked up his life has been.

It matters to Ventus, though, evident by the way he bounces a little where he’s sitting. “Come on. We don’t need to be outside for long.”

“‘S cold,” Vanitas replies, his voice a little strained with the weight Ventus is now leaning even harder onto him. “‘M tired.”

“You’re always cold and tired,” Ventus so helpfully points out, determined to sway Vanitas. His hands slide up Vanitas’s back even higher, finding their way to his shoulders and gently kneading into them, beseeching. “We have coats and junk. And I’ll make hot chocolate afterwards.” 

Vanitas simply grunts in response—he knows Ventus is just appealing to his sweet tooth. “Leave me here to die.”

“Pleeeease? Just come outside for a little?”

Oh, no. Now Vanitas can’t open his eyes because if he does, he knows he’ll see the pout on Ventus’s face and cave. He lets out a sigh and rolls over in an attempt to dislodge Ventus, but Ventus just resituates himself and plants his hands flat on his shoulders to keep Vanitas in place as he stares down at him. “Va-ni,” he intones, sounding more frustrated than before, “It’s not going to kill you.”

“No, but _I_ am going to kill you,” Vanitas mutters sullenly, unwisely opening his eyes. “Why should I do it?”

“Because it’ll make me happy?” Ventus tries, tilting his head innocently and batting his eyelashes at Vanitas. 

“Not convinced.”

“Ugh! You suck!” Ventus groans. “Okay, fine. Afterwards I’ll… run you a bath and then rub your back while we watch those stupid horror movies you like. Along with the hot chocolate.”

Vanitas raises an eyebrow. “And…?”

Ventus lets out another groan, more exaggerated this time. “You are so needy.” It’s time to pull out his secret weapon, he supposes, so he dips downward to press a kiss to Vanitas’s lips—then another, tangling his hands in his hair, and then another. When he pulls back, Vanitas has that dazed look on his face, and Ventus giggles. “There’s more where that came from… but only if you go outside with me.”

That contented expression is replaced by a scowl, but then Vanitas relents. “I’m holding you to that,” he says pointedly, sitting up before he ungracefully shoves Ventus off of him. “Dick.”

“Love ya too,” Ventus sing-songs as he hops off the bed, a shiver running through him when his bare feet hit the ice-cold floor. That doesn’t make him lose his stride, though—not after he successfully manipulated Vanitas into doing something fun.

Vanitas heavily contemplates just covering his head with a pillow and trying to fall asleep again, but before he can do that, Ventus trills, “Get up, Vani.”

Instead, Vanitas chucks his pillow at Ventus’s head, hitting him squarely because Ventus, facing away, couldn’t see it coming for him.

“Hey!” Ventus complains as he turns around to pick the pillow up and promptly throws it back at him. “Stop being a grouch!”

“I can’t. I’ll die,” Vanitas says flatly, dodging the pillow deftly. “Pick me out some clothes. I’m fucking cold.”

“You are so annoying,” Ventus sighs, but he still does as asked. 

He picks out a thick pair of pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks for Vanitas to wear first of all, and in retaliation for his whining, Ventus throws each item at Vanitas’s face. “Get dressed.”

Tugging the clothes off his head, Vanitas makes a face at him and sticks his tongue out, and Ventus just laughs and turns around to start getting changed himself, glad to get into warm clothes. Since they’ve spent so much time around each other (also the bathroom is probably horrifyingly cold), it’s more efficient to just get dressed in the same room, and they’re done soon enough and—reluctantly, on Vanitas’s part—almost ready to start their day.

“‘Kay! Come here and get your coat and junk on.” Ventus is primed to throw the coat directly at Vanitas’s face, assuming that he isn’t going to actually get up; before he can, Vanitas surprisingly stands up and walks over to him, looking vaguely sullen and already a little cold. 

Although he doesn’t exactly want to, Vanitas gets the coat on with minimum groaning and rolling of his eyes; at the very least it makes this slightly more bearable because he’s nowhere near as cold, but it’s still uncomfortable in that it’s far too much padding.

“Stop acting like a doofus,” Ventus chides when he turns around and sees Vanitas standing with his arms awkwardly at his sides, like the coat makes him too large to place his arms down properly. Because he’s contrary, Vanitas just glares and holds his arms out even more—yes, this may make him look stupider, but he’ll do anything to annoy Ventus.

Ventus can’t help but sputter out a laugh, folding an arm across his stomach as he bends over. “Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous,” he comments to himself while he fetches two scarves off the hooks hanging on one of their walls.

“Asshole,” Vanitas retorts, giving up on his petty motion and instead just folding his arms over his chest.

Ventus smiles at Vanitas and loops the scarf around Vanitas’s neck; this is somewhat of a routine that they’ve adopted, as Ventus goofily insists on helping to get Vanitas dressed up whenever he wants to go outside during winter—which, to be fair, isn’t all that often. He’d far prefer staying in a warm bed and hopefully with a warm Ventus tucked into his side. He allows Ventus to do this, watching him with a seemingly critical eye, but that doesn’t faze Ventus in the slightest; by now, he’s very used to Vanitas’s glares.

Humming a little tune under his breath—Vanitas could almost swear it’s fucking _Frosty the Snowman_ , good god—Ventus ties a firm knot on the scarf, it folded in such a way that it’ll prevent the wind from getting in at the neck and finding its way onto his skin.

The first time he had done Vanitas’s scarf up that way, Ventus had told Vanitas that this was how Aqua taught him to do it when she helped dress him up, and Vanitas just demanded that he stop mothering him, then (Ventus never has).

Then, the next bit of their routine: Ventus pulls the knot tight and, holding onto both ends of the scarf, tugs Vanitas in for a light kiss. As much as Vanitas complains, he doesn’t hate this part of going outside. He’ll do anything if it annoys Ventus, but he’ll do anything twice if it means Ventus will kiss him.

A very rare and soft smile makes its way onto Vanitas’s lips and then is promptly chased away when Ventus takes a hat and tugs it firmly over his head, teasingly pulling the front down until it covers Vanitas’s eyes.

“Is it your life’s purpose to irritate me?” Vanitas asks dryly as he tugs the hat up and gets it back into place. 

Ventus, tying his own scarf, hums, “Yup. These are my reparations for when you used to be even ruder to me.”

At one point Vanitas would’ve been more upset at the reference to his past self, but he knows Ventus doesn’t mean it about his _past_ past self—just the self that tripped Ventus in the halls and slammed doors in his face.

Not the self that wanted nothing but both their ends. He’s already been spoken for.

“Brat,” Vanitas quips, doing the same thing to Ventus’s hat once it’s on his head as Ventus had done to his. After plucking his gloves out of a drawer, he throws Ventus’s gloves at him, hitting his face with a nice _‘thwack’_ sound, and smugly tugs his own on.

Ventus smacks his arm with one glove before pulling them on and then linking his arm with Vanitas’s. “All cozy. Let’s go.” Before Vanitas can deny that request, Ventus starts tugging him along, arm firmly trapped within his with no chance of escape.

As they walk, Ventus continues to hum that song—which is now decidedly _Frosty the Snowman_ —and practically bounces on his heels. When he’s made this happy by the simple act of going out into the snow, how can Vanitas ever seriously deny him?

Unfortunately for Vanitas, he can be swayed into doing almost anything if it means that Ventus will be happy.

Perhaps if Vanitas didn’t hate Christmas carols so much he’d hum along, but he has a passionate hatred for them and is tempted to start talking just to drown Ventus out. Before he can, they make it to the front doors, and he shudders from the chill he can feel seeping through the door; even the strong wood and some magic can’t keep it entirely out thanks to how old and horribly insulated this castle is.

“Wait, wait! Hang on!” Ventus blurts out. “Hold on a sec!” Then, he runs off out of the entry hall and off into some hallway, and Vanitas sighs. Really, he doesn’t know what Ventus is doing, but of course he’ll wait. Not like he wants to go outside on his own in this weather, anyways.

After standing there and staring into space for a couple minutes, Ventus runs back up to him with something tucked under his arm. Vanitas gives him a questioning look with a raised eyebrow, and Ventus holds the thing out in front of himself. “A sled!” he presents, smiling at Vanitas. “There are some really good hills around. I haven’t gone sledding in forever, but I figure it’s something to try since it’s your first time in the snow.”

“Is this going to end up with me getting a concussion?”

“No! …Well, probably not. But I know Curaga, anyways!” Ventus insists.

“Wow. That gives me a lot of confidence,” Vanitas says flatly, and then he places a hand flat on the sled and shoves it at Ventus, pushing him back with a small _‘oof’_. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

“Can you act any less interested?” Ventus sighs, but it isn’t a real question; he knows Vanitas will always act disinterested in literally any activity at first. Tucking the sled back under his arm, he pushes one of the large doors open with his shoulder, grunting quietly when the first blast of cold air hits him.

Vanitas groans far more loudly in response and squints into bright light as he follows out the door and pushes it closed behind him. Outside and in the full light, the snow is blindingly stark, and Vanitas lifts his hand above his eyes to shield his sensitive vision at least somewhat. Instead of immediately forging out onto the grounds, Ventus stands on the last stair of the castle steps and just watches the untouched snow.

Vanitas would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little awestruck by this sight; he’s seen a blanket of snow from a distance, but up close it seems so much more striking. It’s a blank canvas, unmarred and whole in a way that he wishes he could be.

That, of course, gives him the urge to ruin it, and he jumps into the snow, landing hard on his feet, and then kicks at it to spray it up in the air. No longer annoyingly perfect.

“Hey! I was looking at that!” Ventus pouts, hands on his hips. 

“Not anymore!” Vanitas calls back as he jumps forward and kicks up another clump of snow, watching it scatter up in the air and come back down as if it’s actually snowing once again. He has to admit that it’s kind of pretty the way the flakes catch the light and sparkle—a very new sight to him.

He doesn’t say that out loud, though, because he’s _Vanitas_ and in no world does he call things _pretty._

“Wait for me!” Ventus calls out to him, making his way through the snow. It’s a pretty awkward movement because the snow is high and his legs are shorter than Vanitas’s, and Vanitas can’t help but laugh at the sight. The annoying part for Ventus is that he can’t really get mad at Vanitas for it because seeing Vanitas enjoying himself is so spectacular that he doesn’t want to do anything to get in the way of that.

At least Vanitas takes mercy on Ventus and stays where he is, kicking small tufts of snow up and staring at the sky as he waits. When Ventus shoulders him suddenly, he’s jarred out of his reverie and glares at Ventus, shouldering him back even harder. 

Ventus stumbles and then rams at Vanitas harder, but of course this is a battle he was never going to win. They shoulder each other a few more times apiece, and then that stops when Ventus ends up with a face full of snow.

“Asshole,” he admonishes once he’s gotten up and brushed the snow off his face, but Vanitas just sticks his tongue out at him, amused and unfazed.

“Let’s go sledding, then,” Vanitas says, pointing a finger at the sled. “Where’s the best place to go?”

Ventus immediately brightens up and seemingly forgets that he was just being cranky, and he jerks his head towards another part of the grounds. “Come on!” 

Those words were largely unnecessary because he takes Vanitas’s hand and pulls him along once again before he can even respond, which is apparently becoming a pattern today. Rolling his eyes, Vanitas keeps pace with him and resists the urge to smile a little when Ventus happily swings their clasped hands between them.

The humming resumes again as they walk, but Vanitas lives with this, looking all around them and taking note of everything he can. There are so many new things to see, the world looking so entirely different when covered in snow, and he’s enraptured enough that he doesn’t realize they’ve made it until Ventus bumps him with his hip—luckily it’s light enough to not initiate another scuffle.

“Me and Terra used to ride on this sled. Luckily it’s big enough since Terra’s always been huge,” Ventus explains, plopping the sled down in the snow on top of the slope they’re standing at.

Looking a little intimidated, Vanitas takes in the path they’ll be going down which is unfortunately lined with trees, and it seems as if there’s a wall at the bottom, probably keeping them from hurtling over an outlook. “This looks incredibly dangerous, Ventus.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Vanitas?” Ventus scoffs as he sits down at the front of the sled, and he turns to Vanitas and pats the space behind him. “Since when have you cared whether or not something was dangerous?”

Ventus has a point—Vanitas is nothing if not reckless and idiotic at times (although he’ll always object to the latter descriptor). If Ventus has noticed that he’s kind of being a coward, Vanitas can’t give him the satisfaction of him chickening out. “Any future concussions are your responsibility,” he informs him as he sits down as well and tucks his legs around Ventus.

“Yeah, yeah. Wrap your arms around my waist, you big baby.”

With an aggrieved sigh, Vanitas does as instructed and then squeezes Ventus too hard once in retaliation. After Ventus’s inevitable complaint, he laughs and secures his arms normally, hands clasped and resting right on Ventus’s lower stomach.

“Get ready…” Ventus primes himself, grabbing onto the reins of his sleigh and preparing to kick off. “GO!”

There’s a long heartbeat where they teeter at the top of the slope, but then they’re off with a loud whoop from Ventus and a strangled noise from Vanitas.

Vanitas didn’t know what to expect out of this, but in reality it’s definitely a little nerve-wracking with the way his stomach drops as they go down, the wind whistling in his face and snow spraying up. Holding tightly onto Ventus’s waist, he does his best not to fall off when Ventus quickly veers the sled to the side to avoid a bush.

Of course Ventus is having the time of his life, loving this even more so because he has Vanitas clinging onto him. “Loosen up!” he yells when he notices how stiff Vanitas’s arms are around him.

“I can’t loosen up when you’re driving like— _augh!”_ he shouts, cut off when they launch a little too high off a small bump; he’s pretty sure Ventus is enhancing this with wind magic as he goes, but he can’t do anything to stop him except yell.

The only reply he gets is Ventus throwing his head back and laughing as they continue on down.

When they reach the bottom, Vanitas slumps against Ventus’s back and groans, waiting for his heart to stop racing. Ventus, leaning back into him, just laughs more and pats one of his hands. “It wasn’t _that_ bad,” he giggles.

“Fuck off,” Vanitas groans, muffled by Ventus’s scarf. There’s a long silence where his hands flex against Ventus’s stomach, and then he concedes, “Let’s do it again.”

Ventus lets out another whoop and forcibly detangles himself from Vanitas so that he can get up. After pulling him up by the hands, he tucks the sled under his arm and once again drags Vanitas along with him.

When they eventually reach the top again, Ventus promptly plops down onto the sled again and motions for Vanitas to get on, who does it without argument for once.

The second time down is a lot more fun for Vanitas because he lets himself be looser, although he does still spend a good portion of the time yelling and almost falls straight off the back of the sled at one point. Ventus _definitely_ uses some wind magic to boost them at certain points, but it’s more fun when they both know what to expect.

By the fifth time they’ve gone down the hill, Vanitas is laughing as they go and leans along with Ventus, trying to navigate the sled around any obstacles. This time, though, they gain a little too much speed and almost slam into the wall, if not for Ventus abruptly steering the sled to the left just in time.

That, of course, results in them toppling off the front of the sled and rolling a few times in the snow until they come to a stop, Vanitas sprawled on top of Ventus who is laying spread-eagle in the snow.

There are some residual giggles that die down until they’re both just panting, and then Ventus complains, “Get off of me. You’re heavy.”

“My legs aren’t working,” Vanitas answers, face planted firmly on Ventus’s chest. “This is your fault.” That’s answered with just a scoff, and Vanitas scoffs in return.

Once he feels stable enough to get up at all, he slots his forearms on top of Ventus’s chest and lifts himself onto his elbows to stare down at him. As pretty much always, Ventus looks cute like this with a flushed face, bright, happy eyes, and hat askew.

That only makes it natural for Vanitas to lean down to kiss him while he has him stuck in place, his own lips cold and chapped. At almost the same moment, they cup each other’s faces and move more into the kiss, then kissing over and over again.

By the time they part for breath, Vanitas’s hat has been discarded to the side with one of Ventus’s hands twisted in his hair, and Ventus looks incredibly dazed yet happy. “That’s a good way to warm up,” he mumbles happily, and Vanitas snorts in response.

A touch unsteady, Vanitas manages to stand up and then offers Ventus his hands to help him get up as well. As soon as he’s on his feet, Ventus sags against him, and Vanitas wraps his arms around him. “You dead?”

“Maybe,” Ventus answers, cheek pressed to Vanitas’s shoulder. Then, he pulls back, eyes sparkling, and meets Vanitas’s eyes. “But we’re not done yet. There’s so much more to do!” Vanitas rolls his eyes but complacently lets Ventus, chattering about all the other things he wants to show him, drag him around. 

Several snowmen—most toppled over by Vanitas—snow forts, and snowball fights later, Ventus and Vanitas lay on the ground, arms spread out while they both stare at the sky. It’s freezing, but the temperature isn’t much for either of them to worry about when they’re happy and sated like this; well, Vanitas would complain, but he’s far too tired right now for that anyways.

Once their breaths have quieted down, Vanitas flinches when something hits him in the eye, and he rubs at his face with one glove. 

“It’s snowing,” Ventus says, contented. “You wanna go inside?”

Another few snowflakes bite at Vanitas’s skin, and he squints at the sky before lifting up his head to look over at Ventus. “Yeah. I probably have frostbite by now.”

Ventus laughs again and rolls his eyes as he starts to get up again. When they’re both standing, Ventus brushes some snow out of Vanitas’s hair and secures his hat on his head, then giving him one last kiss for good measure. “See? It wasn’t that bad,” he chirps as he hooks his arm with Vanitas’s.

Vanitas grunts, not wanting to admit anything, and starts walking along with Ventus. They practically fall through the front doors, suddenly overcome with tiredness and very grateful for the warmth. Then, Vanitas finally replies, “It was okay. I guess.”

“You guess.” Ventus bumps him with his hip and pulls him in for another kiss by the scarf just because he can. “Well, thank you for coming out with me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Vanitas sighs, looking away with a faint flush to his cheeks—whether from embarrassment or residual heat from the kissing, he doesn’t know.

Ventus pats his cheek and brushes some more snow off his shoulder before smiling sweetly at him, the kind of smile that he knows Vanitas can’t resist. “Okay, so I’ll go run you a bath now. Then you can stop whining about being cold.”

“I’m not _whining!”_ Vanitas spits, unlinking from Ventus’s arm and crossing his own. “It’s freezing out there!”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go,” Ventus laughs, shaking his head.

As cranky as he is, Vanitas can never deny Ventus what’s perfectly reasonable, so he follows along, secretly looking forward to the things Ventus had promised earlier.

The kisses, most of all.


End file.
